You Might Want to Hold onto Something
by PenSmith433
Summary: Elladora Rosier was an enigma. She had fallen into the Great Hall without a word of warning; spoken about things not yet come to pass and continually disappeared for hours on end. Yes, Tom Riddle had decided, Elladora was a mystery.
1. Chapter 1: Storms and Questions

**So I was looking back over this story and thought that I should have updated a long time ago. However I read through it and felt that it needed a little tweaking here and there, to make it satisfactory to my own standards, e.g. making the chapters longer and fleshing out the storyline properly. And in a year, my writing has (hopefully) developed.**

** So therefore I am re-writing the existing chapters and also continuing writing. It is a promise to myself that I will not abandon this story.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

She had arrived at the crack of midnight and it wasn't completely without cliché. It was in the Great Hall when it happened and as it was Halloween most of the school was awake and eating in the Great Hall when she had arrived.

Tom Riddle had been one of the people that knew that somehow something was not right on this day. He had walked around the school going to his usual lessons; talking to the same people; eating in the same place, all of which were usual occurrences. But somehow...today was different. He watched the High Table carefully, with a measure of some calculation and saw that most of the teachers looked extremely nervous, as if they too had noticed that today had felt off. They were on edge. As if waiting for something to happen.

Dumbledore in particular had looked increasingly nervous throughout the feast, not eating for once and not talking to any of the other teachers. The Transfiguration teacher's eyes merely scanned the hall, watching and waiting with unveiled impatience and worry.

The seventh year frowned slowly. This was indeed peculiar and for the Transfiguration master it was indeed a little troubling. He didn't even have the hated twinkling of the eyes at the moment. He looked, if he could put a name to it...rather old and vulnerable.

He turned back to his Housemates, keeping a watch on the teachers out of the corner of his eye. The Rosier twins were bickering as usual, Abraxas Malfoy was looking ridiculously pretentious as usual, and Mulciber's manners showed that they were in need of urgent correction. He ignored all of these defects, remaining above the conversation until it drifted back to a more intellectual subject.

"Rotten weather," Lestrange said, looking up in the direction of the enchanted ceiling. Indeed the other boy was right in that currently there was a fierce thunderstorm whistling around the whole castle, slamming against the panes of glass in the windows, "If it doesn't let up then they might have to cancel some lessons for tomorrow," Mulciber immediately perked up at that. Lestrange looked slyly at Tom, "Not that it'll make any difference to the grades of the illustrious Head Boy,"

"Pity the same couldn't be said to you, Lestrange," Tom returned mildly, and the other boy flushed a pale red, inclining his head in a slightly submissive manner. There was a point when gentle banter turned into mockery and insubordination.

Lestrange turned to the others, suitably mollified, "When you do think that Grindelwald will attack Britain?" Malfoy asked Ivan Rosier who had just lost the argument with his sister, "Doesn't your Uncle work in Bulgaria?"

"Uncle Charles?" the other boy nodded, "Yes, he happens to be there now as a matter of fact. He doesn't send word though, something that Father is expressly annoyed about," he tore a piece of bread off from his baguette, chewing it slowly, "I'm unaware of what truly goes on over there apart from what many already know,"

Abraxas Malfoy eyed the smaller boy. Blonde and blue eyed: he was everything a Malfoy should and would be. Arrogant and cruel, he served as a good installer of fear into the school. He was outranked by no one except Tom Riddle. People assumed that the two boys didn't get along with the Malfoy Heir resenting being second best. However those people could not have been more wrong in that respect. Tom Riddle in Abraxas' eyes was the Head of the School, and someone worthy to follow. The Malfoy Heir was impressed by the dark haired orphan's charisma; content with being his right hand man as it were; and if Abraxas was honest with himself- which was a rare occurrence- he would admit to having that faint spark of fear when he looked at the other boy. And it burned.

"That doesn't tell us much," Mulciber said, cutting through the silence.

Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and then it happened.

A loud crack from the ceiling made everyone glance up as several panes of glass smashed from the force of the storm outside. There was the sound of something impacting against a hard surface and he craned his head slightly, seeing several teachers stand up. He saw a faintly rivulet of blood, stain the stone floor before seeing a figure stand haphazardly, swaying dangerously. A girl no older than seventeen stood there, a faint trickle of blood dripping onto the floor.

Dumbledore was instantly by her side as she swayed once more violently before collapsing onto the floor, and Tom saw that her eyes were unseeing as Dumbledore crouched down in front of her, "Ella," he said softly and even over the commotion of the younger years, his voice was clearly heard, "What do you see?"

"People," she gasped; her eyes still oddly out of focus, "Lots of people, running...running scared," her voice sounded slightly hoarse as if she had been screaming for hours on end. She was looking through everything, as if another scene was being played out in front of her.

"Tell me what you see, Ella," Dumbledore said, "Tell us what you know,"

When she spoke again, it had a faint lilting quality to it, like she was caressing the words before she spoke them, "The Dark Lord shall fall and another and more terrible shall rise in his place. The times of peace are not of peace but rather the darkness gathering in force. The Dark Lord whose name shall never be spoken will tear the world apart with little to stop him. Immortal and forever, he lacks the knowledge of love and compassion which will ultimately be his downfall. United with the skull and the snake as his Mark, born to those of inferior and superior birth, he will rise to be judge, jury and executioner,"

"And of the light," asked Dumbledore, "What of the light,"

"There is no light but darkness in its place," she spoke rapidly, and Tom could see that while she was so still, her pupils were darting across the hall, "For wherever light travels it finds darkness already in its place. Darkness is in every one of us and the seed of darkness shall become a shoot, which will grow into a tree,"

Dumbledore frowned, "So there is no resistance against such a future,"

"A boy of no particularly or extraordinary talent shall rise up and fight back," she said, "But it's too late, far too late. The Darkness has been waiting for such a long time, it almost wishes for the light," she cocked her head, "But wait..." her eyes stilled, "The light wins above all else if this boy is to succeed and there is no chance for the dark to regain its foothold,"

"Good,"

"No," she shook her head, returning to the frantic searching, "The balance of light and dark are weighted, there has to be endless battle to ensure peace. Peace is so subtle and dull, it blunts knives and axes. War makes us clever and war is the endless suffering of the universe. Forever and eternal, there is no winner and no loser,"

It was then that Tom noticed that blood was dripping down onto the floor was from a cut on her face that was no doubt caused by her fall. She looked nearly ready to faint, "Anything else at all?" Dumbledore pressed.

"She is returning," she said, "She is returning through the dark, and the blood and the cold. She is returning and he is returning and they are returning, but too late, far too late. The lost girl who is so very far from home; she will wither and decay with no chance of ever being truly alive. The weakness and the strength of a few may guide but also fall. She has no chance but to live and let die," she drew in a ragged gasp, her eyes rolling backwards and falling in a dead faint on the cold floor of the Great Hall.

It was several moments before anyone knew what to do. Eventually, the Matron of the School conjured a stretcher and manoeuvred the comatose girl onto it before levitating it out of the Great Hall with the doors slamming shut afterwards. As soon as they did, the whole hall erupted into a louder cacophony of murmurs and whispers. Tom, looking around on the Slytherin table saw that Ivan Rosier looked very pale. Unusually so.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Rosier," said Malfoy from next to Tom, "Something the matter, old boy? Care to share with the rest of us?"

Ivan swallowed, "I-it doesn't matter," he stammered, slightly, wiping his cold and clammy hands on the legs of his trousers, "Just feeling a little ill," Ivan Rosier was renowned for being a brave pupil. He was a member of the pureblood elite, had connections with various famous people, and had the grades to match his brains. However up against Tom Riddle and the rest of Slytherin House, the Rosier heir quickly folded into a quivering wreck.

Lestrange frowned, "Do you know that girl?" he asked, slightly rudely. Always one to gang up on another student, and incredibly quick to assert his own dominating attitude, Rafael Lestrange pinpointed Rosier with a look of deep curiosity and stubbornness.

Ivan paled, "I haven't seen her in a few months," he said, falling back in defeat. For all his connections and pure blood, he was renowned for having a weak backbone. The slightest pressure and he crumbled, "She's my cousin," he looked at his twin, "Our cousin,"

An eyebrow rose slightly, "Cousin?" Tom asked, instantly gaining the full attention of the group, "I didn't realise you had a cousin, Rosier,"

"My father has a brother," he said nervously, "Charles Rosier...the Uncle I was just talking about. He married someone from the Greengrass Family and they had Elladora and her younger brother: Marius. We don't see much of that side of the family; they're always in other countries. Ella and Marius both went to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts,"

Malfoy however, didn't look impressed at the Rosier Heir, "You look rather afraid of her," he informed the other boy boldly, "She's just a girl,"

"She is not," Ivan defended himself, surprising most of the occupants of the table. He wasn't usually this forceful with anyone apart from his sister, "And I am not scared of her, not one bit. She's just unnerving; both of them are unnerving,"

"How so?" asked Tom.

Ivan looked at him, "You heard what she said, what she has seen," he said, "How can you not be unnerved by the world she has described?"

"Ramblings of a concussed girl," Lestrange shrugged, unconcerned with Rosier's claims, "No input on this life or these occurrences,"

Ivan looked torn, "She isn't normal. Neither of them are normal," he answered finally, almost slowly, "She knows things before you tell her. See things that are going to happen before they come to pass. Draws things..." Ivan hesitated, his fingers playing rapidly with the linen tablecloth, a nervous tick that never went away. He felt pressured by the people looking at him, "...that aren't exactly right,"

Tom looked quickly from left to right, seeing that no teachers were watching them. They were sitting at the high table once again, talking, no doubt, about what had just happened. He looked at Ivan carefully, "Why do you suppose she is here without her brother?" Lestrange drawled slowly.

"I wouldn't know," Ivan answered, "They're usually inseparable. He's blind in one eye and so they never go anywhere without each other," he looked at Druella, his twin silently pleading with her to say something to take the pressure off of him. She looked coolly back, not wishing to get involved in the conversation, "I suppose..." he cleared his throat, "I suppose that Marius couldn't come,"

Tom Riddle shook the sudden feel of déjà vu, irritated at the very feel of it, "That in turn, begs the question...if she goes to Durmstrang..." he asked slowly, "...then why is she here now?"

Ivan shrugged, "I don't know," he said, "It is Halloween there as well as here. Grindelwald might have..." he trailed off, "She wouldn't have been stupid enough to have deliberately got into trouble. If she's here it's only because she had no other choice," he flinched slightly as if a cold breeze had been passed over him, "She's not usually caught,"


	2. Chapter 2: Hospital Wings and Headaches

**This is the rewritten chapter combining the old chapter 3&4 together. Hopefully it's in a more coherent structure than what it originally was.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

Chapter 2: Hospital Wings and Headaches

She blinked blearily, her eyes not working as well as they usually did on an early morning as they usually did. The ceiling seemed blurred slightly, and she felt groggy. She blinked again, the ceiling coming back into focus. Her head hurt and she remembered her rough trip to Hogwarts. She gathered that she was at Hogwarts; anywhere else and she wouldn't have been treated as nicely as she had expected.

A face loomed into her view. Old and worn, Dumbledore, oh good, everything would be all right now. Fairly, "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked her carefully, "You've been unconscious for a long time. It's the next evening; you've missed an entire day,"

"Perfect," she said in a dull tone of voice, "I remember passing out but not the rest,"

The face smiled, "The Matron had you placed on a stretcher and brought you to the Hospital Wing," he informed her, "You landed in the middle of our Halloween Feast," he frowned suddenly, "You remember what you spoke of in the Hall?" she nodded slightly, placing her hand to her head, "I don't suppose discretion, especially in these dark times would be desirable?"

She restrained from rolling her eyes, "I can't help it," she muttered, struggling to sit up and feeling calmer when she did so. She looked around the Hospital Wing. It reminded her of the Wing back in Durmstrang, with its whitewashed walls and the beds lined up all neatly in straight rows with the curtains pulled around to stop any curious passerby from looking in at an ill child, "I mean...it's not particularly controllable. You do understand that,"

"I understand perfectly well, my child," he smiled, "None of us are infallible," he pointed out, "Indeed all of us have flaws. The things you see aren't something to be hidden away,"

She nodded at him although not really paying attention, the pounding in her head only growing worse in ever second that past, "People have the right to know of things," she flexed her hands and the bones popped in succession, unused to being used, "When does the nurse allow me to leave the Hospital Wing?" she looked around the clean white hospital wing, "I'm not particularly fond with hospitals wings. They're...unnerving, one might say,"

Dumbledore managed to look sympathetic and disapproving at the same time, "You have only just woken up, Ella," he said to her, "You mustn't do anything to overwhelm you otherwise you might pass out again. The Matron here feels that you should remain bed-bound for another three days," she groaned, from both the pain that she was feeling and the information, "And under close supervision for another week,"

"I feel honour bound to inform you that I hate being confined," she said almost coldly, "Buildings which I'm made to be in can never really be my friend. I like the freedom of coming and going. That was the reason that I mainly came here. Durmstrang was restricting,"

"Grindelwald has taken control over the school then?" he asked, sitting in the chair next to her.

She stared at him, her thoughts in bewilderment, "He's had control of the school for over a year, sir. I thought you knew that?" he shook his head, and Ella looked down, the feeling of intense surprise lingering over her. She didn't let it show on her face however, "They must be sending out wrong information or at least they're trying to give the impression of that," she raised her head, "I would not have left Marius behind if I had known,"

He looked at her in mild surprise, "You left your brother there?" he queried in surprise. Ella said nothing, "I am surprised at that," he waved a hand, indicating that they would talk about this another time, "I am not surprised in hindsight about the information from Bulgaria. I was previously under the impression that everything is heavily censored at the moment. It's very difficult to glean any information from state officials,"

A slight smile overcame her features "That is only because you refused to talk to the right sort of people, and give them the satisfaction of giving information," Ella rubbed her fingers together slightly, "Gold is very valuable amongst people these days, for the right price,"

"I dislike that method of gaining information," he said to her, "I, unlike your father, know that the people that can be bought for a price can easily give the same information to the other side for even more money,"

"As you wish," she said, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and gently placing her feet on the floor. She stood up slowly, and she couldn't help but allow a brief spasm of pain to pass over her face, "There is no damage done. I had thought that..." her sentence failed her, with another flash of pain, and she gripped the bed-stand tightly.

"Ella, you don't have to prove anything to anyone," Dumbledore said softly to her,

She tied her hair up with a ribbon that was lying on the bedside table next to her. It was a green colour and there was lace etched around the edge of it. She decided that it would do: at least it wasn't pink or any such dreadful colour, "What is to happen for the rest of the year?" she asked quietly, "I hardly think that you will let me go around on my own. I confess that I don't really know what to do with myself. Leaving was so...rushed,"

"You are to be enrolled at Hogwarts for the remainder of the year," he said, "The teachers have consulted together and we all believe that is the best thing to do in lieu of the information about Durmstrang,"

"You're going to have me enrolled at Hogwarts?" she placed her hands together, "It's almost half way through a term, and the teaching here at Hogwarts is vastly different from the teaching at Durmstrang. We have another year compared to English education,"

"This school is the safest in Britain. You are safe and protected here," Dumbledore insisted, "Your father will wish for you to continue your education even if you are in a different country," she nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly, Headmaster Dippet has also assigned a student to help you for the first few weeks that you are here. Just so you get a grip of the place,"

She straightened slightly, inclining her head, "I can't argue, I suppose," She said, "Anyway, where would I go? Annalisa and Father are in Bulgaria, my brother is still in Durmstrang, hopefully not drawing too much attention to himself," Dumbledore looked like he was going to say something, but she cut through again, not wishing to show any vulnerability. She was in a new place, and she hadn't quite got to grips with the lay of the land, "Is there anyone I know in my year?"

"Your cousins Ivan and Druella Rosier," he said, "They are in your year. Several of your distant family as well, and I am confident that you will know people from your mother's get together parties,"

"I never really went to those, Dumbledore...professor," she replied, using the formality that she had to remember now, "Annalisa..." she swallowed the next word a struggle to get out, "Mother is quite adamant about inviting a lot of guests, and not actually thinking of the room space she had," a brief smile flashed over her features, "I should feel quite lonely without anyone," she felt a flood of amusement at that. Being alone was never a chore, the company of most people tended to irritate her beyond belief. She could only tolerate her classmates in Durmstrang for around half an hour, "This year will be quite different then,"

There was a sharp rap on the door and the two occupants of the room turned towards it, "That would be the student that the Headmaster assigned to you," Dumbledore murmured, "He can briefly explain the castle and its workings to you. After all, you are not going to leave this Hospital Wing for a week,"

Ella smiled, "As you wish, of course,"

"Tom will explain to you," He said, "He's the Head Boy, and one of Hogwarts top students. If he can't explain it to you, then I don't think anyone else can,"

She looked at him, smiling, "I'll listen but tell me if I'm wrong when I get the feeling that you don't trust him?" she put to him, "The way you say 'Hogwarts' instead of 'our' for the top students, it's...different. Why have someone that you don't trust look after me?"

"Don't dive too deep into things already," he strode to the Hospital Wing's doors and opened them, "Ahh Tom, thank you for coming at such quick time,"

"Not at all, sir," the voice of the Head Boy floated towards Ella. She didn't react to the voice in anyway. She couldn't exactly tell what someone was like just after hearing their voice. There was a touch of coldness in his tone though, but there were too many assumptions at this point. She would find out soon enough.

"Ahh Miss Rosier," Dumbledore once again came back into the Hospital Wing, accompanied by a boy that was roughly a head and a half taller than her. And she was taller than the average person. Dark hair; grey eyes; and very cold- All these things ran through her mind as she studied the boy in slight apprehension, "This is Tom, Hogwarts' Head Boy. Tom, this is Miss Elladora Rosier,"

She caught the gist of it. She knew how the drill would work. Don't say that we know each other, don't say that there is anything the matter. Don't say anything that might compromise yourself and might link you back to Grindelwald, all the way in Bulgaria. Cowardice perhaps, but it was also a very good way of protecting yourself from any harm that might befall you or someone close to you. She preferred the first, but understood meaning and intentions of the latter.

"Pleased to meet you," Ella said calmly, not showing any indication that she was having an internal monologue. She didn't hold her hand out to shake, as she usually would. She didn't know what it was, but there was...something, not quite right about this character. Something a little...different than everyone else, something hidden.

Tom didn't hold out his hand either. The girl in front of him looked thin, and underneath the calm face that she had placed on herself, he knew that she was feeling pain. He knew that all girls were the same and was more interested in the latest fashion rather than holding a decent conversation. Apart from appearing quite different, he assumed that in her head were useless thoughts which held not a thread of intelligent conversation.

He inclined his head however, "I could say the same, Miss Rosier," he answered to her. It served no purpose to try and alienate her already, despite her unusual method of entering the Great Hall. She was a cousin of Rosier, and despite the boy having no backbone whatsoever, he knew that he would stand behind his family.

The silence grew uncomfortable, "Well," said Dumbledore, placing his hands together, "Tom, you've been asked to show Miss Rosier around the castle when she is able to leave the hospital wing," the pale haired boy nodded smoothly, and Dumbledore looked back at Ella, "Tom will explain the way the system runs in Hogwarts, the Housing system and the rules,"

"Naturally," she replied before turning her head to look at the taller boy, "I'm sorry, I didn't actually catch your whole name," she said.

"Tom Riddle," he answered smoothly, "Slytherin House," she inclined her head, and a small smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, virtually undetectable, "You'll most likely see me in some of the same lessons. Don't hesitate to ask,"

Once again the prickling feeling of unease spread over her, chilling her to the core. To all intents and purposes, Tom Riddle looked like the perfect student, and so far she hadn't seen any proof to the opposite. But there was something; a small doubt that was hidden away, that told her that he seemed too perfect. That something...something else was behind his outward appearance. She prided herself on being able to hide what she truly felt about a situation. It was unnerving to find another that might be able to do the same.

"Thank you," it was a standard reply. She wasn't going to show all the cards in her hand at this point in time, not when she wasn't a hundred percent certain on his character. She had been wrong before.

Dumbledore placed his hands together, "Well, we'll leave you to recuperate, Miss Rosier," her now professor informed her, "I'll call by tomorrow so we can discuss your timetable in greater detail. If you need anything, Madame Stephens, the Matron, will be happy to help you out,"

Ella lifted her face into a resemblance of a smile, "I'll ask," she replied, and both Dumbledore and Tom Riddle walked out of the Hospital Wing.

She sat down on the bed, the pain in her legs building. She dropped the smile from her face and leant back against a pillow. She tapped her lip, pondering on what to do next. She was now in England, surrounded by people that would most likely be apprehensive about her coming from Durmstrang. Either way, she would have to manoeuvre her way through the different factions.

She could handle herself; she had been doing it for over sixteen years. If people didn't bother her then she wouldn't bother them. It was really only when they deliberately put themselves in her way, she would do something about it.

She settled down to sleep, still feeling the pain shooting up her legs and into her spine. Next time she tried to use a Portkey when under pressure, she would make sure that she would land, standing up, and preferably not over stone.

Elladora looked at the ceiling, her mind still filled with different thoughts. The last thing that she consciously thought was that it would be a very cold day in hell when she willingly asked something of Tom Riddle.

**I think this is setting up the stage for a decently plot filled story. Small time jump in the next chapter.**

**Next time: Nightmares, Houses and Cousins**


	3. Chapter 3: Nightmares and Cousins

**I'm back, and I really should have uploaded this three days ago but I had History Coursework on the Russian Revolution to do. But I uploaded tonight so it's here, but just a little late.**

**Disclaimer: It isn't mine.**

Chapter Three: Nightmares and Cousins

_Lights shone around her, as she whirled and ducked around the room, changing here and there. Where was her father? Why was she here? The room that she was in lay in carnage, with bodies strewn around. She glanced over them, frowning slightly, she didn't know anyone here. Why was she holding her wand? This was an ugly battle. After all her education, she had ended up in a battle of the bloodiest kind. Where was she, she felt cold. The windows had blown in, a stray Blasting Curse, no doubt. Her feet carried her from the room; there was no life behind her. She never acted without reason, not this time._

_She ran into another room, seeing people fighting a horde of swirling evil. Grindelwald. She repressed the urge to go and help push back the darkness, in a fight to win over the forces of the dark. But she was one of the dark; neither side would like it if she was there to sway one side. Where was her father? He should have been amongst the number that was fighting the defence. She dodged the spell that came hurtling towards her and she remembered why she was here in the middle of the fight. This was all of her orchestration. Planning every last second, protecting only herself, and leaving the lesser inferior people behind, that was what it all had been for. Why had she forgotten?_

_She had planned to leave the school under the cover of darkness without a single person to notice her going. But someone always had to notice that she was distracted, that she spent an awful amount of time scribbling on worthless pieces of paper that made no sense to the onlooker. Someone always noticed when Ella Rosier was acting peculiar. As if she was some kind of specimen to be examined by every Healer in the ward. And someone always cottoned on at the last minute, and decided to do the __heroic__ act of creating a diversion in order for one person to finally escape the vile clutches of Grindelwald and his allies. Like she was actually that deficient in magic, that she couldn't stun some worthless guard and disappear so that no one would be able to tell that a student was gone the next day._

_She informed the other side. If there was going to be a fight then she wanted it to be rather spectacular. Her final tribute to the school that had ultimately failed her expectations of being a place of learning and knowledge. What did she care if people died? That was what happened, people were born and then they died, the cycle of life continuing in one endless cycle. Some people just died before others and some died in battle. The endless act of war and peace. They were the same in the ultimate end; why was she the only one that understood this? It didn't matter if one or three or a hundred people died if they were assuring the balance needed. No, she couldn't and wouldn't think like that. She was better than-_

She jolted awake, noticing how she was breathing heavily, pain-filled gasps of air that echoed in the silent hospital wing. Nightmare. It was just a nightmare of a memory. She was at Hogwarts, there was nothing to be afraid of, nothing to worry about. She was safer than she had been in a long time and she was not going to be placed back into danger. Not now. Not in the near future.

_But_, the little voice inside her head spoke softly; _you're not in complete safety here, you know that._

She pushed that thought away, resting her head against the pillows. She'd been told, on numerous occasions, that Hogwarts was the safest place imaginable. There was no possibly way that Grindelwald could storm this castle. He hadn't even arrived in Britain yet. There was no chance that he could reach here.

She rolled onto her side, trying to get back to sleep. It had been a difficult three days since she had arrived in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had pretty much arranged everything for her. The lessons that she would take. Somehow, he had managed to get all the paperwork together, documents, files, everything she thought would have been locked in a basement in the middle of Sweden.

Her back was improving, the pain had receded gradually. And she was desperately bored of the Hospital Wing. After her attempt at standing on the first day that she had arrived, the Matron had confined her to the bed, citing another three days' rest. She hadn't fought against the order. She had been tired, but now she was relatively well again, she was already anxious to leave the white room and never see it again. She would be getting out when Dumbledore would collect her the next morning.

Once again her thoughts strayed to Durmstrang, the cold halls and the freezing dormitories. Where was her brother now? She clutched the blankets, the thought freezing through her mind. He would be all right; there hadn't been any indicator that he had been harmed. Her father would have written, her mother would have been hysterical.

Grindelwald would not have reacted well to the sudden student rebellion, and her subsequent disappearance. It would have been obvious that she would have disappeared, if not through the lessons then through the rumours. No one had died, but she supposed that many would have been punished. And she wouldn't have been surprised if Marius had been placed under a careful watch of Grindelwald's men. For a blind boy, her brother could provide plenty of trouble if necessary. She hoped that he would manage to get a message out to her, but she didn't hold her breath. It would be foolish and dangerous to even attempt it. He was not a fool to try anything if there was no guarantee that it would work.

She laughed to herself, the sound echoing in the empty room. Listen to herself, she was preaching caution. A year ago and she would have been saying the complete opposite. But then a year ago she had been a different person. Much more...socially different. If those were the right words to call it. Socially different...or morally devoid. That's what her brother used to call her. Morally devoid...

She closed her eyes, sleep once again stealing over her. It was quiet and she felt unusually warm for it being the beginning of November. She hoped she wouldn't dream...she didn't want to face her past or the future. She wanted to...

Something poked her in the side and she rolled out of the way to avoid it. She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to go back to a world that was blissfully blank of any images that might have cause to trouble her.  
Another poke and she opened her eyes, blinking against the dim light, "Ella," she moved her eyes towards the figure sitting next to her, "Ella, it's me," Druella Rosier, one of her cousins, sat in the chair next to the bed looking wide awake, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Elladora replied, sitting up, looking at the clock, "It's seven thirty o'clock, Druella, why are you here? I didn't think the Hospital Wing was open,"

"It isn't," her cousin smiled, "I wanted to see you before I had to go to lessons and seeing as the door wasn't locked, I thought that I'd come and see you now. Are you sure, you're all right..." Druella peered at her, "You look dreadfully pale,"

"Ecstatic," she replied dryly, "Truly," her cousin positively beamed at her, "I think I'm leaving here this morning anyway. But then I digress, how are you doing?"

"Perfectly well," the pureblood response flew out of her cousin's mouth instinctively. One glance and she immediately looked contrite, "Very well, there's no point lying to you, I guess," she sighed, "Father has arranged a contract between the younger Black son and me," she admitted, and the younger cousin said nothing, "I've met him and he is handsome..." She looked up, "But I do not see how it is fair that my life can be so controlled by my father. If this contract goes through then I have no choice but to marry him. I don't even know what he's like. I don't know if I'm even able to give him a son," the pure-blooded witch was quickly becoming hysterical.

"It's the way that it's been done for over five hundred years," Ella said and Druella shot her a weak glare, though no tears shone, "I don't pretend to understand your situation because I don't. I have never been in that situation and I don't intend to be," she sighed, fingers twisting the sheets delicately, "I could see a possible future, but only if you wanted to,"

The girl looked up, "Last time I saw you, you said that there never was any possible futures, only fixed outcomes and events," she replied.

"The last time we saw each other was when we were eleven and the only things that I could see were fixed points and outcomes," Ella said sharply, "There are certain points in time that you can't meddle with, some things can never be changed. But there are little things that can be influences. Some things change all the time," she held out her hand, "Do you want me to try and see?" Druella looked at the hand and reluctantly took it.

Ella closed her eyes, focussing on the flickering images that were already passing behind her eyes. A dark haired woman running through a gleaming black hall, another, this time blonde, woman sobbing, collapsed on the floor. A flickering image of a young boy, but that picture was gone before she could ever see it. The images flowed through her mind, each becoming a little more fragmented and each showing something a little different, it was warping around so many people's decisions.

She jolted back, "You can be happy if you wish to be," Ella answered, the images once again reduced to flickers, "With who your father chooses, Orion or not. You will be happy. It depends on how much you are ready to give yourself to this...life that your father wishes for you," Druella looked slightly crestfallen, "It's not the end of the world, you know,"

"I expected something a little more...definite," she said, nibbling at her lower lip.

"Futures change all the time," she informed her cousin, "There are only a few definite things to happen. Time can't be rewritten around those events, but the rest is always in flux. We're living events that may fall out of our control. Time is so precious that people don't realise it. Your happiness, cousin, is subjective. I tell you this because there is no way for you to hide from your own choices. Your future will be happy,"

"Thank you," Druella bent her head slightly in thank, before looking up, "Do you ever look into your own future?" she inquired and the other girl tilted her head, "Do you see anything for yourself?"

A smile played around Ella's mouth, "Yes I do," she answered, "Yes, I do see something...but then again, it may not happen. Depends completely on the way I want things to go. Something that is very dangerous to be able to do, but also something does need to give way..." she look at her confused cousin, "Oh look at you, you have no idea what I'm talking about," she reached out and patted Druella's hand lightly, "Don't worry about me, cousin, I don't need any help,"

"You say that now, but you don't know nearly anything about this country," Druella pointed out, "When was the last time you were in England? Four? We haven't set eyes on each other for six years. You just appeared in the middle of the Great Hall, and I almost didn't recognise you. Neither did Ivan. Do you know what you're going to do? Last time I heard, Aunt Annalisa and Uncle Charles were still in Bulgaria,"

"They are," Ella replied, getting out of the bed and drawing the curtains around them, "I don't know whether they know that I...left Durmstrang and are now in England," she quickly dressed into the uniform that was folded on the short table next to the bed, "I suppose that you have informed Uncle Damien that I am here," Druella didn't do anything and Ella smiled slightly, her back to the sitting girl, "I wonder how long an owl can get to Bulgaria. I'm sure Grindelwald will be happy to hear the news,"

"Ella, I'm..."

"I had to leave Marius," the words were whispered, and Druella froze at the cold tone that was issued from Elladora's mouth, "I had to leave him there, and I don't know anything at the moment. What kind of sister leaves her younger brother in a death trap?" she turned around, "I suppose that label of being socially different comes into play once again,"

"You clearly had no choice," Ella looked at her cousin, studying her features carefully, from the soft blonde hair to the slightly rounded face to the upright position in which she was sitting. They were truly words apart and yet she would have to rely on this girl, her cousin that she hadn't seen in years. Family never deserted family after all, "And you'll be able to fit in here, at Hogwarts. Ivan and I are here, and then there are your cousins from the Greengrass Family in the lower year: Isabelle and Lycius, I think. All of us are in Slytherin,"

"I think you are forgetting the fact that I am not yet Sorted into one of your Houses, Druella," Ella informed her, "There may be a chance that I am not in Slytherin, I confess that I am not as devoted to this idea of dividing a year group. At Durmstrang we were kept in our years. Explain the Houses to me,"

"There are four Houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw," Druella counted on her fingers, "Hufflepuff is known for loyalty, Gryffindor for bravery, Ravenclaw for intellect and Slytherin is for cunning and ambition. Slytherin and Gryffindor have a rivalry that runs deep; if you are Sorted there then don't expect many Slytherins to like you. You're not known for bravery are you?" Ella briefly thought of how she left Durmstrang and shook her head, "Good,"

Ella let out a chuckle, "You are so quaint, you know. Real life doesn't allow you to alienate yourself from a fourth of the population. You need all the friends that you can get," she opened the curtains again, "Sometimes the most we can do is put our differences aside,"

"It sounds like you know a lot about 'real life'" her cousin answered mockingly, "You're still only seventeen, Ella,"

"And you have no idea what I've been through," Ella said sharply, looking intensely at Druella. She allowed a smirk to cross her face as she saw the blonde girl stiffen in apparent trepidation, "There are somethings that I have seen that will live with me forever. Don't ever forget it,"

**Next Time: Sorting, Blondes and Articles**


	4. Chapter 4: Sorting and Blondes

**So I've been ill this week, which made everything so slowly. Being ill over Christmas is no fun at all. So this is a belated Christmas gift.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

Chapter 4: Sorting and Blondes

_Gryffindor?_

She stared at the Great Hall in ill-concealed wonderment. It was...beautiful in a majestic manner that few places would be able to emulate. It was so much warmer than Durmstrang, the students chatted happily amongst themselves looking like they were without a care in the world. She tilted her head up and blinked at the ceiling, seeing that it showed the stormy sky of the weather outside. It was unlike anything she had seen, but she was conscious to make sure that she didn't look too surprised. She was aware of people's eyes on her.

_Hufflepuff?_

"Are you ready, Miss Rosier?" she looked at Professor Dumbledore, who was standing next to her, "To be Sorted?" she nodded swiftly, "It doesn't hurt a bit. All you need to do is place on the Sorting Hat," she didn't show her surprise at that statement. She had to try on a hat? "I'm sure Professor Dippet will want to say a few words in advance. We best not keep him waiting for too long. I'm sure you're hungry for lunch either way. You'll start lessons tomorrow, and you'll have the rest of the day to acclimatise to your new House," he looked down at her, "Well, we better get started,"

Ella followed Dumbledore down the aisle towards the table that was situated at the far end of the Hall. As they walked through, she saw that students' heads swivelled towards them. She kept her head up, walking with precision, ignoring them. She had been the focus of worse attention in her life and she wasn't about to allow anyone under the age of eighteen to unsettle her.

_Ravenclaw?_

She watched as a frail old man tottered up the steps to the lectern, clearing his throat, and gaining the attention of the student body, "If I could have your attention," Elladora noted that his voice was as feeble as his body, "Thank you," he shuffled around a little, seemingly arranging notes, "As you are no doubt aware, Europe is in the grip of turmoil caused by Gellert Grindelwald," with those two words he had successfully gained the notice of every student, "In light of these events, some students from Durmstrang, a school which we have been now made aware is under the control of Grindelwald, wish to transfer over to a safer Hogwarts,

_Slytherin?_

This man liked to make speeches, she could tell. Already she could see that there were people whose eyes were glazing over in boredom, "Therefore, we will be effective in welcoming those students that wish to study here," she nearly sighed with frustration. He was prolonging her anxiety, "So, to be Sorted now will be..." the Headmaster peered at something, "Miss Elladora Rosier, who will be in the seventh year,"

_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin?_

She walked calmly over to a stool in the middle of the dais, sitting down on it. Dumbledore then placed something on her head which obscured her eyes from the hall. This, she supposed, was the Sorting Hat, and she was grateful that she couldn't see the rest of the students, as she was aware that she looked faintly ridiculous with it on.

'_Ahh,'_ she flinched slightly at the voice that suddenly echoed within her head, _'Now this is very, very interesting. What a wonderfully peculiar mind you have, Miss Rosier. You have seen so much in your short time, and have seen so far, as well. My, my, you have seen so much in your very short life. So where should we put you?'_

'_I gather that you are the Sorting Hat,'_ she replied in her mind, getting over the initial shock of having a voice echo in her head, _'I suppose it would be polite of me to inquire how you are doing, but seeing as you've skipped to rummaging around my head, I'll lay off the formalities,'_ there was a slight chuckle at her words, _'You should know that I consider this whole process to be time wasting and pointless. It's no wonder that all the British politics seem to be polarised, if they're educational system is about dividing them up when they're children,'_

'_I often have that argument myself,'_ the Hat said. _'But I was intended to Sort, there is no getting around that fact. Hmm,'_ it sounded rather thoughtful, _'Hufflepuff wouldn't suit you at all. You hold your brother close to you due to his sight impediment and your similarities, but with everyone else, you push them away from you, not ever forging friendships, perhaps that will change while you are here?'_

'_I doubt it,'_ Ella contradicted him, _'I will be here for all of two and a half terms, hardly enough time to form any type of relationship. Not even with my cousins. I don't intend to make friends,'_

'_Perhaps,'_ the Hat sounded mysteriously curious, _'I think we can both agree that Hufflepuff is certainly not for you. And neither is Gryffindor. You ran from Durmstrang in the middle of a battle, leaving people behind as you went. You are brave but you lack that chivalry that Gryffindors so possess. You would court danger but make sure that you were never caught doing so. Which leaves only Ravenclaw and Slytherin...now this is difficult,'_ the Hat rambled a little to itself, _'Your ability allows you to have intellect and you are certainly individual to fit with Ravenclaw. However...there is a side to you that would fit with Slytherin...where to choose? This is difficult,'_ Ella didn't say anything, _'Very difficult, but then...so it must be...SLYTHERIN'_

The Hat was lifted away from Ella's eyes and she moved towards the clapping table. She briefly spotted Druella who waved a hand in her direction. She walked towards her older cousin, sitting in the space that had been made for her, "Five minutes trying to decide?" Druella questioned, "I was thinking that you would be a simple Sort, clearly I was wrong. Where else?"

"Ravenclaw," Ella answered calmly, and Druella nodded. Her eyes moved around the table, meeting every one of the Slytherins' eyes. They dropped their gazes when she met them easily, "Everyone seems to be suffering from muteness in this House. I do hope it's not catching,"

"Cousin," she turned to survey Ivan. He hadn't changed since she had last seen him. He was still as thin and as tall as he had always been. The resemblance to Druella was unmistakable, especially the blonde hair.

Ivan inclined his head to her, "Elladora," he said, "How...good it is to see you again. And after so long," he looked around the table, seeming to seek out some form of backup, "Your stay in the Hospital Wing went well?"

"Considering that I had damaged my spine and my head, I would say that it went well," Ella answered, drumming her gloved fingers on the table, watching him closely, "How is Uncle Damien? It's been quite a while since I received a letter from him. I do hope his business isn't that tiresome,"

"I'm sure he'll be pleased to hear that you are in Britain again," he replied smoothly, and she smiled mechanically. The tension on the table was palpable, "How long do you think you'll be in England for?"

"As long as I need to," she told him, "If Grindelwald comes over to Britain then rest assured; I will not be here for long," she looked around the table again, "I don't suppose that you're going to introduce me to everyone?" she inquired of Ivan.

"Of course," Ivan collected himself, "Abraxas Malfoy," he motioned to a blonde haired boy, "Rafael Lestrange...Orion Black," he nodded to two boys to the right of him, "Orion's cousin, Cygnus Black...Mulciber is down the end with Read Avery, and Tarquin Nott. And of course, Tom Riddle, the Head Boy,"

"Yes, we met earlier," she didn't look at the aforementioned boy, instead looked at Abraxas Malfoy, "I was briefly acquainted with your father in Belarus earlier this month. How is he, and your younger sister, Adrianna?"

"My father?" Malfoy looked rather surprised at the turn of questioning, "I was not aware that my parents had been to Belarus this year,"

Ella smiled slightly, breaking a piece of bread up in her fingers, "I have no doubt of that, Master Malfoy, parents often don't tell their children things," she dropped the bread on her plate, not taking a single bite, "I would have you recommend me to your sister again, she was...fascinating," Malfoy flushed slightly, "Fifteen, isn't she?"

"Yes," he collected himself, and replying curtly, "Yes she is,"

"Fascinating," Ella stood up, looking down the hall, "Druella, would you be so kind as to show me the way to the grounds?" her cousin nodded, rising to stand next to her dark haired relation, "Mr Nott..." the boy in question looked up, "My condolences for your mother's recent death two days ago," the boy frowned in confusion, "Rest assured, she died in a way...not many would envy," she turned and quickly walked out of the Hall, Druella following her with a bewildered look on her face.

"What was that all about?" she asked Ella, when they reached the entrance of the Hall, "I think you've managed to successfully confused and intimidate around half of Slytherin House," Ella smirked slightly, looking straight ahead, "The grounds are just through here," she walked quickly to the entrance of the school, "There's nothing on the grounds really, apart from the Gamekeeper's Hut," Ella saw an expression of distaste passing over Druella's face, "And his...assistant, Hagrid. You don't want to mix with...that level of people," she cleared her throat, "We aren't allowed in the Forbidden Forest which surrounds that side of the castle,"

Ella turned to Druella, "Thank you," she said, smiling a little, "I'll be able to find my own way back," Druella looked thrown off balance, "The weather will not bother me and I believe that you have classes to be getting back to. I have the rest of the day off and I wouldn't want to keep you from lunch," she smiled, watching the other girl nod, slowly, "I'll see you later tonight..." she tripped down the path towards the castle, leaving a very bewildered cousin behind.

* * *

"She's completely insane," Tarquin Nott hissed to Ivan, as Elladora and Druella disappeared out of the Hall, "My mother is not dead, she sent me a letter just the other week," the other boy looked ill at ease with the accusation "She isn't...she isn't dead,"

"I'm sorry," Ivan answered honestly, not backing down. The other boy shook his head, "I really am sorry. Mrs Nott was a good woman,"

"She is not dead," Nott snapped, his fist balling, his knuckles white in anger and fear, "She is not ill, she's not at the front line, there is no plausible reason why my mother would be dead. Your cousin doesn't know anything," Ivan didn't answer him, just looked down, "How could your cousin even say that?"

"I told you, she's different," Ivan replied, "And although I don't count her as anything but an acquaintance although she's my cousin, when she says things like that, I would take her word as gospel, because she has never been wrong before," he looked at his twin as she sat down in the seat that she had occupied before leaving the Hall, "How is she? Or where..."

"She gone into the grounds, she doesn't want anyone to follow her. I have no idea where she's gone but I wouldn't like to be the person that wants to follow her," Druella informed him, and she took a look at Nott, "He doesn't believe you, does he?" Ivan moved his head minutely, "I'm not surprised, people so rarely believe Ella, until it actually happens," she took a sip from her goblet, "She acts like she knows the castle...but as far as I was aware, she's never been here,"

"Of course she knows the castle," Ivan retorted, clasping his hands in front of him, "I would even go as far as to say that she's looked into everyone's backgrounds by now," he looked over the Slytherin's heads, "Hey, Lycius!" the younger boy looked irritably at him, "Have you had any letters from Marius Rosier recently?"

"Marius?" Lycius folded his arms, looking at the older student, "I heard from him three weeks ago, requesting that I ensure that Isabelle didn't go to the Hogsmeade trip," Ivan nodded, gesturing for him to continue, "He didn't mention much but stated that I ought to improve on potions. You know how they write their letters, half is in past tense and half is in future. None of it makes sense, but there's no point not following it, because you'll get more owls. Why?"

"I haven't heard from Marius in nearly six months," Ivan said, "I only wondered if I was the only one," Lycius merely shrugged, going back to his conversation with the younger Slytherins, while the older Slytherins remained silent, divided between feeling derision and thoughtfulness, or a mix of both.

It was only broken by the sight of Professor Slughorn walking down the aisle to stop in front of Nott, who looked up at his Head of House, "Mr Nott," the rotund man seemed to bounce uneasily on his feet, "I have been recently received a letter which is intended for you," he handed the boy a letter, who stared at it, "My condolences," the man strode as fast as he could away from the table.

"Nott," Lestrange shook the boy's arm, "Nott, what is the letter about?" Nott didn't answer, "Oh, come on, you can't believe that girl can see the future," Nott ripped open the parchment, reading it smoothly before dropping it onto the floor, "Nott?" Lestrange picked up the letter, staring at it, "It's just a coincidence,"

"Read it," Nott's voice was listless.

"_Dear Master Nott,"_ Lestrange read, _"We regret to inform you that your mother, Lady Carolina Nott, has died in an air-raid attack in London due to German Muggle airplanes on the 2__nd__ of November. We believe that death was instantaneous and without pain. Our thoughts are with your family. In deep sympathy, Ottaline Gambol and the Ministry of Magic," _he placed the letter down on the table, "Nott, I'm..."

Nott raised a hand, "Lestrange, do me a favour and don't say anything," he looked at Ivan, "I want to talk to your cousin,"

"You'll have to wait until she reappears, Nott," Druella answered for her brother, and Nott turned to look at her with a less than friendly look on his face, "She's got the rest of the day off, and we have lessons in..." she looked at her watch, "Five minutes," Nott looked reluctant to leave it there, "She's not going to appear because you want her to, Nott. She knows that you want to talk to her and probably disappeared because of that,"

"It's got to be a coincidence," Lestrange scoffed and Druella merely shrugged her shoulders lightly, "No one can predict the future like that,"

"And yet we have Divination as a subject," she calmly threw back, and several others snorted in condescension at the mention of the subject, "Reading the future is perfectly valid, it's just that some people are more in tune with knowing it. Just like some people are more talented at Transfiguration or Potions," she stood up, "You can talk to Ella later," she walked off.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "Your sister seems strangely defensive of your cousin, Rosier," Ivan didn't answer and the blonde haired boy turned to look at Riddle who had been silent throughout the whole conversation, "What do you think of Miss Rosier, Tom?"

The Head Boy looked thoughtful for a minute, "I don't think I have complete knowledge on Miss Rosier to be able to give my view on her just yet," he admired the light glinting off his fork, "However I don't think that there is anything to be said about her apparently seeing the future. Most likely it is based on coincidence and accurate observations. That is the end of it," Ivan looked like he was about to protest, "The end of it, Rosier," Ivan bent his head in submission, "Now I do believe it is time for lessons,"

* * *

"Where have you been?"

Ella moved her eyes to look at Druella who was standing by the side of the Slytherin Common Room. She looked at her clock, half nine, after curfew. Perhaps she had been out longer than she realised, she had lost track of time again. She raised her head to look at Druella, "I've been out," she replied to her.

"You've been out for nearly nine hours," Druella said, "And it's after curfew,"

"In my defence I hadn't been told that I was out of curfew, so therefore I am not liable," Elladora smiled mechanically, "My school life starts tomorrow, so I think I ought to get some sleep, don't you?" Druella had no answer to than and the taller girl smiled wider, "Don't worry about me, Druella, I am perfectly capable of looking after myself," she moved further into the common room to be met with Tarquin Nott, "Is this becoming an intervention?"

The boy in front of her looked pale and wan, and she noticed that his hands were shaking somewhat, "How did you know?" his voice was raspy, and she suspected that he had been crying, although she knew that he would never admit to such a thing, "How did you know that my mother had died two days ago. Please,"

Elladora looked around the common room, sensing the other seventh years' eyes on her, eagerly awaiting her response. They were like vultures, she thought, not unlike Sweden. Always pushing for more information than they were permitted to have, always grasping. She cocked her head, directing a sweet smile towards Nott, "It doesn't matter how I know, just that I knew that it had happened. For example, I can tell you that the storm outside will stop completely at 2:24 am; that the headline for the Daily Prophet tomorrow will be: Grindelwald attacks Orphanage in Oslo, and that Professor Merrythought will deduct 15 points from Slytherin because Mr Lestrange will make a derogatory comment about Muggleborns. Your mother death was something that I simply knew," she moved past him, "You will have to live with that explanation for the time being,"

She walked towards the girls' dormitories, when Nott's voice echoed behind her, "Was it painful for her?" Elladora stopped, "I apologise, but I have to know whether she was in pain,"

Ella turned around, facing the grieving son, "Would you like to see it?" she asked with a fair amount of curiosity. There was a slight hush in the common room as the younger years suddenly realised the tense atmosphere, "Would it answer your questions?"

She held out her hand.

Druella moved forward and Ella pinned her with a look, before keeping an eye on Nott, "The last moments of your mother, don't you want to see that? To be there for her, one last time. It's what anyone would wish for,"

Nott seemed torn, half raising his hand, and taking a step forward, "Nott," Riddle's voice cut through the tension, and successfully breaking Nott's reverie. He looked at the Head Boy, who gave him a cool glare. The boy moved to sit down once and when the seventh years looked up, Elladora Rosier had disappeared out of sight.

**So I didn't get onto writing about the Articles part of the next time. That'll be in the next chapter.**

**Read and Review.**

**Next Time: Lessons, Articles and Gloves**


	5. Chapter 5: Articles and Gloves

**I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in nearly four months, but this year so far is not going too well. I've been ill, and then as soon as I recovered my laptop decided to corrupt it's hard-drive, and it took about a month to get the files off it, because we couldn't find them. So it's taken about two months to find everything. Needless to say I'm not feeling too charitable towards technology at the moment.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

Chapter 5: Articles and Gloves

"The storm's over,"

Druella looked at her cousin who was chewing on a piece of bread roll. She didn't make a sound in confirmation or denial at her words, just continued to eat slowly.

"Probably stopped early this morning," she continued, without any reply, "2.24 am if I wanted to guess a time," Elladora kept her eyes on the plate in front of her, "And the headlines are all about the attack is Oslo," still nothing, "Heaven above, Ella, what are you trying to prove here?" her cousin raised an eyebrow at her, her eyes dull and bored, "You're going to frighten the whole school by the end of this year,"

"A very wise man once asked the question whether it was better to be feared or loved," Ella remarked, "I am afraid that I am unable to answer that question for I am unaware of how one can rise so high to have the prospect of being both feared and loved," she looked down at her plate, the roll in pieces, "Don't you think that it's a kindness to allow people the chance to say goodbye,"

"That wasn't your intention," Druella replied, and the younger girl looked faintly confused, "You didn't care whether Nott wanted to say goodbye or not. You just wanted to make sure that he knew that you could see his mother's death," she still looked faintly confused, "Ella..."

"Why does everyone think that I should be quiet about things?" Elladora inquired, softly, "Dumbledore thinks I should be quiet, you think I should be quiet; I wouldn't be surprised if your illustrious Head Boy thinks that I should be quiet," she fiddled with a ring on her finger, "But if I can see something...even if it's something little, why can't I tell anyone? It could make the world of difference,"

"Because it's not right," the blonde haired girl insisted, "There's a limit to what you can and can't say. If someone asks then very well, you can answer them. But saying it with humour isn't socially acceptable,"

"Oh that's clever," Ella answered, and Druella could detect the mockery in her voice, "Very clever, awfully clever," the girl laughed, one hand scrunching up her hair, as she shot her cousin a grin, "It isn't socially acceptable. So being socially acceptable is to accept the status quo, don't make a fuss...to be as docile as a flock of little sheep?"

"Ella..." Druella tried to cut across.

"No, don't interrupt me," Ella tapped a finger on her bottom lip, "You see the problem is not with me, Druella. I accept what I can do and what I can see and everything else that surrounds me. The problem is that society as a whole prefer to give out the appearance of calm when underneath there are always these questions. Society can never accept reality because otherwise they would be ashamed of what they have become,"

"And what exactly has society become?" Druella didn't want to answer but the words fell out of her mouth before she had the time to restrain them, "I'm sorry..."

"It's not me you need to apologise to, Druella," Elladora told her, "But s you did answer so nicely," she waved a hand, "Society has become...shallow. It's not just England, it's the whole world. You see it everywhere. Appearance counts more and more these days. You think you're individual? I guarantee that there are a million of the same people. Muggle or Wizarding, it doesn't matter," she picked up her fork, "But I'm preaching to the deaf, and this is far too a serious matter to be discussing over breakfast,"

"Or lack of in your case," Druella looked at the dark haired girl's plate, "You didn't even finish your roll. Are you feeling all right?"

"Perfect, I'm just not really that hungry," Elladora pushed the plate away from her, before looking ahead of her, "You need to pay extra concentration to Potions this afternoon, Druella, please ignore the boy that you sit next to," Druella felt taken aback before nodding swiftly, "Oh good,"

She opened a roll of parchment and begun to draw lazily on it. Up at the entrance of the Hall, a group of seventh year Slytherins strolled in, all in marked contrast to the rest of the Hall in that they looked unnaturally wide awake. They slipped onto the bench next to the two girls, "Brother," Druella inclined her head to Ivan.

"Sister," Ivan replied with the same courtesy.

"Cousin...relative," Ella mocked him, continuing to sketch on the parchment, "Now that we're all acquainted with the rituals of the day, Ivan, I will ask your questions about Oslo. Yes, Grindelwald did burn the place to the ground. I think his reasoning was that the orphanage housed Muggleborns, but frankly Grindelwald's insane, it could have been because he didn't like the style of the building,"

"Thank you, Ella," Ivan answered slowly, "You're looking..." he didn't exactly know how to describe her, "Good,"

"You're a horrible liar when it comes to pretending to know what you are talking about, Ivan," she returned to looking at the parchment, "Please, ignore me," she sketched out a curve, "Viva la resistance,"

"Miss Rosier," Abraxas looked at the newcomer, "I wonder what courses you are going to be taking while at Hogwarts," she raised her head slowly, "Unless of course, you will not be here long enough to take the N.E.,"

"Hmm," Ella cocked her head, "That depends on external circumstances, Mr Malfoy. I could be gone by tomorrow. Or I could be gone in a years' time. Nevertheless in the meantime, I will be taking Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Defence against the Dark Arts," her eyes dropped back down to the parchment, "The latter should be interesting. I haven't had to take that course in a while,

"Not Divination," the question was paused innocently...almost mockingly, and it made Elladora's hand still on the page. The atmosphere was suddenly charged, as if someone had decided to walk into the wolf's lair and decided to inform the occupants that dinner had been served.

"Divination?" Ella didn't look up, "Give me your hand," she held out a palm and Abraxas looked wary of it, "Give me your hand," he reluctantly put his upturned hand in hers, "According to the subject Divination, your lifespan is long, you will be prosperous and you will die surrounded by your many children," he made to move away but her grip grew instantly tighter, "However, I know that is only a possibility, apart from the many children. Divination is mostly complete rubbish, and fixed events," she drooled his hand, going back to her drawing, "Not worth my time,"

"My mother seemed to be worth your time," Tarquin Nott said hoarsely from his seat, "You didn't answer my question yesterday,"

"And you didn't take my hand," Ella replied, "The death of your mother was merely one of many fluctuating events. A blip that could have gone either way. In contrast the premonition the night that I arrived however was a fixed point,"

"That doesn't answer my question,"

"As my illustrious cousin has already explained to you, my brother and I have the rather rare ability of seeing more than we ought to," Elladora placed her quill back in her bag, "I have no intention trying to convince people who just won't be convinced," she folded the parchment carefully into an origami flower, "Each to their own, I suppose,"

The conversation was clearly over.

Druella turned to her brother, "Did you finish the Transfiguration essay for Dumbledore this afternoon?" she asked him, and he closed his eyes slightly, "We have a free lesson after Potions, you can look over mine," he nodded thankfully, "Don't forget next time, Ivan,"

"Ivan would forget his head if it wasn't properly fastened on," Lestrange informed the table, as he reached to take a piece of toast, "Unless of course he was morally against doing the essay. Dumbledore..." he looked briefly at the teachers' table, "Well it's a joke,"

"Your sentiments are noted and appreciated for the hundredth time, Lestrange," Tom told him, sarcasm evident, "No doubt that means that you have forgotten to the essay yourself, yet again," the table broke into laughter as Lestrange flushed red from a mixture of shame and anger, "I suppose there isn't a proper excuse,"

"Professor Dumbledore teaches Transfiguration," Ivan told Ella, "And it is a general rule that he guards all Slytherins with suspicion. He was a Gryffindor when he studied here- they are the table over there," he pointed to a table that was making a considerable amount of noise as they tucked into their breakfast, "He isn't openly antagonistic towards us it's just-"

"Come off it, Rosier," Abraxas cut through him, "What about the time when Tom was the only person to be able to manage Human Transfiguration last year. That ought to have earned him at least twenty points to us, and Dumbledore didn't give him anything," he looked at Elladora, "Don't expect any favours with Dumbledore. And even worse he's a notorious Mudblood advocate,"

Most of the group nodded at his words.

"It's a pity then that Grindelwald is so scared of him," Elladora remarked neatly, "Otherwise you would already be overrun with his many...supporters," she spread her hands, "Thank heavens for small mercies. Most of Durmstrang believe that he is the one who will defeat Grindelwald. It's entirely plausible,"

"Grindelwald champions the superiority of magical folk over the Muggles," Lestrange insisted, "We are the superior race, not them. They don't have even the potential to do even a drop of what we can. They're like children running in the dark. Not even worth the attention,"

"Oh I wish so," she replied, softly, "Because you forget that even a child can learn how to turn on the light, and when that happens...you'll find that they were stronger than you ever realised," Lestrange frowned, "If the lion truly knew his own strength then there would be no stopping him. He'd be immortal,"

Lestrange was about to retort when Druella spoke up, "Let's not argue this now, you don't want a teacher to overheard you again, Lestrange," the boy scowled momentarily before it faded as Professor Slughorn made his way down the aisle.

"Now, now, why are you all so serious?" he teased them, "The storm's blown over, and it's the start of a glorious day," he turned to the newcomer, "I have your timetable here, Miss Rosier," he passed it to her, "I had the pleasure of teaching both your mother and father, and was very disappointed when they decided to send you and your brother to Durmstrang," Elladora smiled almost cautiously, "Your father is a great friend of mine, and I hope he remembers that," he waved as he walked back up the aisle, "I will see all of you in Potions this morning. Mulciber, don't forget that essay," the boy nodded in agreement.

"Is he always like that?" Ella inquired, watching the rotund man carefully.

"Nearly always," Orion Black inputted after being Solent for most of the conversation. As the oldest Black he had been brought up in being able to discern where the power lay. Usually it was held with Riddle, but for this conversation the Head Boy was being particularly quiet, interceding rarely. Instead, he found that Elladora Rosier was the one that was truly leading the conversation, though it wasn't completely apparent, "He's a good teacher, but goes a little heavy on the crystallised pineapple,"

"I think he's one of the better teachers here," Druella said pointedly, clearly eager to disagree with everything that Orion said. That was perfectly acceptable with him. He wasn't willing to marry her either. He saw Elladora cover her mouth, before winking in his direction. She was amused at her cousin's actions as well.

"It won't matter which teachers are best if you're late to your first class," a voice said and they all looked up at a girl who was wearing plain black robes "Do hurry up all of you," and with that she quickly disappeared.

"Talking of Mudblood-lovers," Lestrange murmured, but he was already picking up his bag, "It's Defence first and Merrythought is sure to be early again,"

* * *

"What was with the flower?" Ivan asked as they lined up outside the classroom door. Elladora frowned at him, "The folded parchment, what was the point to it,"

She smiled, "There wasn't a point to it, Ivan, there rarely ever is a point to things," she answered him, taking it out of her pocket, "It's a present for someone. I'm just not sure who for just yet," she looked up at him, "You're troubled,"

He shrugged, "Just worried about the Transfiguration essay. Dumbledore can set quite nasty detentions. Last time he made Mulciber scrape all the Droobles gum off the bottom of the desks without magic. Some of that had been there for years. I don't want to be doing something like that and..."

"Ivan," she interrupted him, "You're babbling at me," he closed his mouth, "If you are sure that you are worried about that," he nodded and she raised a hand. He instinctively moved back, and the hand was left in mid-air, "Gloves," she flexed her fingers that were in black leather gloves, and tilted her head, "Are you sure that you are only worried about that essay,"

"Positive," he said and inwardly berating himself for answering too quickly, "How are you finding Hogwarts so far? Better than Durmstrang?

"It's growing on me," she answered him, still regarding him with interested eyes, "There seems to be a lot more than what it appears," he supposed that the sudden change of subject was also rather obvious, "I don't suppose you could enlighten me on that subject matter?"

This was safer subject ground, "If you want to know more about Hogwarts then you ought to ask Riddle," he told her, "He knows about this castle than half the staff, I'm sure he won't mind helping you out,"

"Riddle?" She felt once again that apprehension at the mention of the Head Boy, "If I ever get stuck then I'll ask him," she shifted uneasily at the reminder of breakfast. Although he hadn't said as much as two sentences in the conversation, there was always that palpable presence that he was able to project. That he was a looming shadow encompassing his surroundings. There still appeared to be too much perfection when Tom Riddle was included.

She remembered seeing a play once, where the brother of one of the antagonists was a Man of Sentiment, and had a good reputation, but if you scratched the surface, you found that he was a liar and the opposite of his benevolent appearance. That mask of amiability and good appearance seemed to be mirrored on Tom Riddle.

She directed her attention back to her cousin who she found was still speaking, "Well I'm sure that all the teachers will do the utmost to enable you to be on the same page for all their lessons," he was saying, "Defence should be easy. We only started Warding the other day. It won't be difficult to get on the same page,"

"That fills me with-" a cold breeze ruffled past Ella and she turned to where she thought it was coming from. Nothing.

"Hmm?" Ivan blinked at her and she felt a surge of irritation. Couldn't be pay attention for once, "Time to go in," she merely nodded her head, following him into the classroom, before sitting down next to Druella.

The classroom was an adequate size for twenty students. Sunlight was streaming through the large windows, and all around the room were different objects that no doubt related to Defence against the Dark Arts. She faintly wondered how they could ever get duelling aspect of the curriculum done in a classroom this small, but she pushed that thought aside as Professor Merrythought walked into the room.

She was a rather old professor and immediately upon seeing her, pictures bubbled up in Ella's mind all linking to the woman in front of her. When she bought her first wand at Ollivander's, attended Hogwarts and eventually began teaching Defence over fifty years ago. She could also see that the professor intended on retiring at the end of this year. An intention that was only partially fixed in time. Interesting. She would retire soon but it didn't have to be next year, it could be the year after. Ella hadn't seen many of those events before. Either they were fixed or were changeable. Not in-between.

The teacher cleared her throat, "Ahh Miss Rosier," she raised her head to look at Merrythought, seeing the question that she would ask, "Would you know what the curriculum for Defence against the Dark Arts was at Durmstrang? I only ask to cross reference with my own lessons throughout the year,"

"We never had Defence against the Dark Arts lessons, Professor," the whole class turned to look at her, and she looked coolly back, "Not in...three years, have I had that particular lesson. Grindelwald changed it to the Dark Arts when he started infiltrating the school," she smiled slightly nostalgically. Would she be able to get away with it? "I could give you a thorough run through of what exactly we did in class, but you've just had your breakfast and I wouldn't want to make anyone...ill,"

Merrythought scowled slightly at the young girl, "A brief sketch of a usual lesson would be adequate, Miss Rosier," she said impatiently.

Ella sat back, before smiling tightly, "Our professor would often make students duel each other, and the only way of ending the duel would be to hospitalize your opponent. Bearing in mind that the Hospital Wing only allowed students within injuries worse than a crushed leg, ma'am," Merrythought stared at her, "Students in detention were used as practice for the Cruciatus Curse and various other Dark Arts. Apparently animals didn't demonstrate the full extent of torture that the professors required," she leant forward, "Homework however was to practice the Unforgivables, albeit this time on animals, although the Imperius Curse was meant to be used on fellow students. Is that adequate for a lesson plan, Professor?"

"I think so, Miss Rosier," Merrythought answered tightly, and Ella nodded calmly, ignoring the stares from the other student, "I think that you will be able to keep up with the rest of the students this year," she looked around the rest of the classroom, "Turn to three hundred and twelve. And Mr Malfoy, if you would be so kind to start reading,"

* * *

"I have to confess that she will not be my favourite teacher," Elladora told Druella as they walked out of the classroom, watching as a red faced Lestrange stalked past them, having gone through losing 15 points from the professor, "Undoubtedly she won't just read from the textbook and go through just the theory every lesson, but there is an option of making it a little more..." she cast around for the right word, "Exciting,"

Druella shrugged delicately, "Merrythought gets everyone through their exams perfectly fine," she said calmly, flicking a piece of lint off her shoulder, "If her methods work then you won't see me criticising her,"

She was almost bowled over as Lycius suddenly ran around the corner, "Ella!" he called to the older girl, holding aloft a paper, "I ran as fast as I could," he handed over a newspaper, "It's the Bulgarian National Newspaper. I only just received it," Ella quickly snatched it off him, rifling through the pages, "Page 3. It was from Marius' owl. I thought he wouldn't send any more letters,"

"Foolish boy," Ella muttered, looking at the article of which a large photograph of her was displayed underneath, "'Elladora Rosier, aged seventeen, is believed to have disappeared from Durmstrang Institute, after dissenters stormed the school, and provoked an attack amongst the students, an attack that left twelve students seriously injured," she read out clearly, "Miss Rosier was seen forcibly taken from the school...' Who wrote this article?" she looked at the author, "Government controlled paper,"

"Never mind that," Druella dismissed, "What else does it say?"

Ella returned to the article, "The Minister has expressed deep concern over the disappearance of Miss Rosier, 'We will, of course, be employing every resource available to finding Miss Rosier. Her family are very worried about her circumstances.' Her sixteen year old brother: Marius, still at Durmstrang, has said that all his family are hoping his sister is safe from harm, and that the investigation is left in the most capable hands,'" Ella turned the article to show Druella, "Marius has underlined: 'capable hands', and 'every resource' Grindelwald has his army looking for me,"

"What can you do?" Lycius asked, "I've still got his owl here. I think he's waiting for a reply. Do you want to send a letter?"

"If I send a letter then Grindelwald is going to find it," Ella told him, before tapping her mouth, "What's he playing at? What is he hiding?" She saw that Druella looked confused, "Grindelwald knows where I am. Your brother wrote to your father the night that I arrived, and he would have told Grindelwald," she held up the paper, "There never was an attack on the school, it was a rebellion from the students, not dissenters. This article is Grindelwald sending a message that he is looking for me, and covering his tracks of that he faced a riot from teenagers,"

"But what would Grindelwald want with you?" she said and Ella raised her eyebrows, not quite believing her cousin, "I know, I know, the whole seeing the future, but he has Marius. Marius can see just as well as you. Why does he need you?"

Ella shifted, not willing to answer that question. That was her secret, "Better with two people who can see the future than one," she evaded, "And Marius is a boy; my parents can easily step in whenever they want. I'm a girl, not as important," she shrugged her shoulders, "But I know this. If Grindelwald is serious about finding me, and he knows that I'm here. What's to stop him from sending people to hunt me down in Britain?"

**Next Time: Potions, Conversations and Snakes**


End file.
